Triumph of Devotion
by Kerurshi
Summary: In a world of nineteenth century artillery and Greek feuds, the armies of male and female have divided over opression and violence. When a certain race interferes, will relationships formed during the fight break apart, or will devotion triumph?
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: If we owned it, we wouldn't be writing about it, now would we? We've also discovered this is not required on every chapter, so... We do not own or claim to own DragonBall Z, though we do own this story here and the plot involved. Now shutup and pay attention._

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__The Required A/N: And now.. bringing you a collaboration between ErieDragon and Vegeta's Gyal. 

TRIUMPH OF DEVOTION 

prologue 

To the end, they would ponder how quickly such a change had occurred. It seemed like just the other day that they were almost above the men when it came to ranking, shouting orders, their very whims obeyed for fear of their extravagant lungs. Now the males treated them as if they were lower than dirt. 

For a while, the women had been able to live like that. They were still alive, weren't they? To be able to say that was a privilege in times like these. 

One of the women, also a valued nuclear scientist, had developed weapons of mass destruction. To the people of Athens, this was an assurance of safety, but to their leader, their Taishoo, it was a tool. He wished to use them immediately, and authorized testing of the massive missiles as soon as the weapons themselves were completed. 

Kame Island was struck by two nuclear warheads Midsummer's Day. Hundreds of rare Sea Turtles were destroyed, and a small, pink house was reduced to rubble. 

Not many of the men agreed with what they were doing to both Kame Island and the women, but they feared their general greatly, and obeyed his every command. They loved their wives, daughters, and friends, but the Taishoo had power beyond any of their imaginings, both politically and physically. 

The women were in an uproar. They could live with being oppressed, for they hoped that when the Depression had passed, everything would return to normal. Unlike the men, they were unafraid of the Taishoo, and rebelled. The rebellion was crushed due to the men's superior weaponry, so they resorted to another method. 

The small band of women stole silently from Athens under the cover of darkness, unsure where they were headed, unsure how they planned on surviving, but only concerning themselves with escaping. The city no longer held any comfort, only anger, sorrow, and grief. 

Each one held a musket in their hands for protection, one of the few things they had brought along with them. They had stolen the weapons from the men earlier that night with the help of their only male companion. 

As they darted into the woods not far from the village, one of the silent figures stopped in her tracks, her head hanging at her chest. Small droplets dappled the ground, the tears making a patter against the dead leaves. She looked at the high city walls wistfully, but turned and continued, no doubt in her heart that she was going the way she had to. The woman mumbled a name, looking up as someone shouted to her from the front of the line. 

"C'mon! We have to get moving!" 

She nodded and hurried into the forest after the rest of the women. The caller also looked back, but only for a second before she, too, disappeared into the thicket. 

They reached the shoreline sometime before sunrise. One woman turned, peering through the thick black forest in case anyone had followed them. The city of Athens could still be seen, but the band of escapees was well hidden by the tree cover. 

The women stopped upon approaching a churning canal, so deep in places it was almost black. The occasional dead fish could be seen floating atop the scummy, murky water. They were sure a crossing boat had been waiting there only a matter of days ago. 

"There it is!" A woman pointed into the brush near the edge of the water, where it was hidden beneath a small hedge. They ran to it, dragging the transport as one from the thick brambles and falling with it into the water. 

The boat had a dragon head on the front, decorated ornately with stolen gems from sea raids. There was a lookout seat behind the dragon's mane, the only sheltered place aboard the massive sea vessel. The sails were normally high and glorious, but today they would be riding low. The women piled themselves into the ship, taking up their oars at the many rowing stations. 

The long, wooden boat slowly began to turn in the water, the lookout taking her seat at the front. 

The women all turned to take one last look at the deep, dense thistle, the entrance to the forest. Over the tops of the trees, they could see the city of Athens, the place that had once been their home, and the place that was now home to their worst enemies; the men. A loud sigh escaped each woman's lips as they focused on the boat. Before the dragon's sharp nose sat their destination; the city of Troy. 

*** 

They stumbled through the soggy mire, each one soaked to the bone. 

"Get your lazy asses out of the mud! We're almost there!" The sound of boots extracting themselves painfully from the trench could be heard, all attempting to follow their hardy general. 

"But we're tired and hungry, sir!" A tall soldier near the back whined. 

"Tough shit!" Snapped the short, stocky man who led the weary band of fighters. "If you don't think you can handle it, then I can _personally_ escort you elsewhere!" His voice was full of venom, causing each and every man to shrink back and keep their opinions to themselves. 

After what seemed like hours of dragging themselves through the swamp, the troops caught sight of a high, grassy ridge. They scrambled frantically past drowning river trees and patches of black moss, gripping the wet, green grass and climbing over each other to reach the top. They finally collapsed, trying desperately to catch their breath, eternally grateful for the rest they had been granted. 

The general snorted at his army's childlike antics. 

Beyond the ridge, a vast channel of black, brackish water separated two worlds in a fine line, weaving away into distant lands. Upon the canal lay the city of Troy, so close to the opposing regiment, yet so far. The walls, tall and sturdy with age and practice, were armed with numerous lines of artillery. They were supported on all sides by enormous flying buttresses, protecting various ranks of dugouts and bunkers. 

The soldiers got to their feet, letting out exasperated sighs at the sight before them. There was no way Troy could be invaded. The general growled, pointing along the vast ridge. 

"Let's get going! Gunjins forward!" The stocky commander began moving, the soldiers following him with heads bowed. 

The tallest soldier in the group stopped, casting a longing glance to the impossibly powerful walls of the city. A private next to him growled, taking his friend's arm and dragging him to catch up with the group. 

"This will all be over eventually," he assured, but his voice portrayed exactly an opposite sentiment. The taller, black haired soldier nodded sadly, and they caught up with the rest of the troops. 

"If we can't storm it on foot, we'll have to barricade them!" The captain told his much shorter superior. The general nodded. 

"I'll send you and some of the troops back. Bring all the artillery you can find! We'll have a perfect bunker spot at the top of the tor." 

He counted off the strongest of his men, ushering them down the hillside. The company set off at an impossible speed, passing the sludge of the swamp towards Athens. 

The general furrowed his brow, urging the rest of the tired troops to the top of the mountain ahead. 

*** 

Email us at kerurshi@mindless.com or leave a review. Yup. That's fine. Go ahead. 

Fitting, isn't it? 


	2. Beware of Foreigners

A/N: And now, the first chapter of _Triumph of Devotion_, the collaboration fic between ErieDragon and Vegeta's Gyal 

TRIUMPH OF DEVOTION 

Chapter One. beware of foreigners. 

"SECOND ROUND!" The Taishoo called, kicking one of his soldiers in the shin before picking up his musket. He flipped the trigger, closing one eye as a bullet shot true from the oak shaft. A few branches flew from the roof of the great wall, the stocky general cursing loudly and throwing the weapon to the ground. He stomped off in frustration, his soldiers exchanging quizzical glances. 

"That temper's gonna get us all killed!" a short, bald soldier growled. Suddenly, a scarred face blocked his vision. 

"I wouldn't talk about him behind his back if I were you," the captain advised, glancing to either side uneasily before standing up straight. He tucked his hands behind his back and continued to walk purposefully past the laboring troops. 

"FIRE ONE!" a green-skinned private called, pulling his black and white striped beanie down as the soldiers ducked, a huge blast signaling the departure of a heavily armed cannon. The projectile careened across the channel, an explosion racking the massive walls of Troy. The women's shouts could be heard all the way across the river, a familiarly tall, black haired soldier shooting worried glances to his fellows. They avoided his gaze and turned back to the task at hand, shaking their heads sadly. 

A rifleman, a heavy helmet covering his bald head and third eye, looked around briefly before noticing his captain. The tall, longhaired man stood on the top of the hill, watching the fort with downcast eyes. At least their captain was suffering as much as they were, the private thought. 

"KUSO!" a boy of twelve hollered, throwing his flint into the channel below. 

"Calm down, son. Just relight it," a soft, saddened voice commanded. The black-haired teenager glanced up, eyeing his father with scrutiny. 

"KAKKAROTTO! Get back to those cannons! Their defenses are down!" A deep, rough voice pierced the air, the tall man immediately letting go of his son and nodding profusely. He shuffled back to his cannon, the short, flame-haired Taishoo snarling nastily before prodding the rest of his troops. 

*** 

The women scurried about, loading cannons, cocking guns, and arming themselves in anyway possible. They were under siege, but they weren't about to back down now. They had only been on their own for a month, and each member of the Mamoru Kame was determined to put up a fight. 

A cannon blasted, and the walls of Troy shook from the impact. 

"Ready?" A young, pigtailed girl with violet eyes asked, raising her arm to signal the attack. "Aim... Fire!" Cannons and gun shots ripped through the air, and the eleven-year-old general saw men falling to the rocky across the channel, the rest ducking for cover beneath their artillery charges. 

"Bideru!" The general spun around, angry with whoever had interrupted her at such an important moment. Didn't they know she had a fort to protect? 

Her eyes fell on her father, who was purposely striding towards her. "Bideru, I don't want you on the front ranks," he told her, putting his huge fists on his sides and glaring at her. The teenage general closed her eyes, calming her boiling temper. 

"Father, please," Bideru said, clearly exasperated. 

Her father opened his mouth to argue some more when another cannon blast ripped through the air. With a high-pitched squeal, the large, bulky man took off running. From beside the young girl, a blonde, blue-eyed woman frowned at the man's retreating back. Hercuro, being the only male in Mamoru Kame, had decided to take it upon himself to watch out for the women, especially his only daughter, Bideru. Though one of the stronger fighters, the tall man with his brown afro and goatee was definitely the least courageous. 

More gunshots could be heard from the Rikugun no Otoko, and each woman ducked behind the battlements for cover. 

"Ahh," the blonde general heard someone gasp, "I broke a nail!" She turned to see Maron examining her hand, a look of horror on her face. 

Juuhachigou rolled her eyes and scowled. "That's the least of our troubles right now, Maron," she snapped. 

*** 

A second cannon exploded, chunks of iron flying in every direction. Smoke filled the air, a box of cannonballs breaking and scattering the huge lumps of metal all over the hill. Men rushed after the escaping artillery, which bumped and rolled all the way down to the swamp and began sinking in the slush. 

The Taishoo stood at the top of the hill, face covered in dust from the unsuccessful weapon fire, his face contorted in anger. His fists were clenched, blood beginning to seep from his fingernails. His teeth were grit, and Vejiita could already hear bits of bone breaking free. How had everything gone so WRONG?! They were the otokos, the rulers! They were supposed to WIN! But this war had already been dragging on for a month, and there was nothing the Rikugun no Otoko could do beside fight on. 

We need more weapons, the Taishoo realized. He remembered that he had sent a group of men to Athens for the artillery the bunker was equipped with about a month ago, but they had only recovered half of what he knew existed in the walled Athens. They had insisted no other armaments could be found in the city, despite Vejiita's harsh threats. 

If they couldn't find the weapons... The Emperor! The general cursed raucously, slamming a fist into a musket stand. The wood shattered, sending splinters off the cliff and the gun it had once been supporting into the dirt. The former Emperor of Athens had a vast armory, and if they were running out of weapons, then something was still hidden. 

Vejiita let out a snarl, glaring at anyone nearby. His captain wiped sweat from his forehead, tears from his dirt-stained eyes dripping down into his fork-shaped scars. Even the Taishoo's eyelids were beginning to hurt, the artillery smoke making him stifle a cough. He couldn't show weakness around men. 

He turned, looking around for the nearest soldier. His eyes fell on the young twelve year old, his wild black hair in a thick ponytail as he reorganized the men and began loading the remaining cannons. He dismissed the thought of sending the boy, and looked around for someone else. Almost everyone was doing something to get things moving again, and men were still scattered in every direction. 

The Taishoo growled. If you want something done, you've got to do it yourself, he thought angrily. He turned to the boy again. "Gohan!" he barked. 

The boy jumped up at his name, spun around and saluted smartly, "Vejiita!" he replied, suddenly covering his mouth at his informal response. The stocky general growled, raising his arm to punch the boy to high heaven. "At attention, Taishoo!" Vejiita dropped his hand, nodding in acknowledgement, still snarling at the boy's insolence. 

"I want you to tell all the privates and captains that I've gone back to Athens. Understood?" 

"Yes sir!" Gohan shouted, as he turned and ran off, narrowly dodging a bullet that had been fired from Troy. Vejiita snickered, turning on his heel and throwing a musket over his shoulder and, upon digging it out of the mud, sheathed his dirt-mottled sword. 

*** 

Wet, cold, tired, hungry, and none too clean, Vejiita made his way into Athens. He passed the gate guards, grabbing their spears when they crossed his way to get a better look at him. The general twisted the iron spades, hitting their dull hilts into each guard's helmet and knocking them unconscious simultaneously. He snickered, pushing the huge log doors open, slamming them behind him with a loud rumble. 

The Taishoo marched purposefully towards the main building. His young frame rippled with muscle, and his ferocious flame-like hair stayed completely straight in the thick wind that now bore down on Athens. Townspeople recognized him instantly, and they shrunk back in fear. There was no forgetting that man's face, for it belonged to he who had overthrown the rightful Emperor of not too long ago. However, the quivering people went unnoticed by Vejiita, much to their relief. His sights were set on the large Parthenon that sat deep in the city. 

He marched up the elegant white steps of the large building in which the former Emperor was held prisoner and walked through the large archway. Guards scrambled out of his way, not wanting to face his wrath. Vejiita smirked at them as they fell over each other in attempt to give him as much room as humanely possible. But the short-tempered man became annoyed with their pathetic antics and blasted them to Kingdom Come. A couple scorch marks on the walls were the only sign that someone had been there and another had died there as Vejiita exited the long hallway. 

He entered the throne room, and his eyes fell upon Chaotzu. At the sight of the short but muscular man, the guards who were holding Chaotzu captive backed out of the way. Vejiita smirked evilly, a look that the former Emperor returned with a hate-filled glare. Vejiita's smirk vanished, and he countered Chaotzu's glare. It was a stare down, and neither man was prepared to back down first. 

"You have returned," Chaotzu said coldly, his eyes not leaving Vejiita's for an instant, "Why?" 

"I know you have more artillery hidden in this place," Vejiita replied. "I want it." 

Chaotzu's face remained the same, giving nothing away. "We have nothing left. No one has anything left, Vejiita." 

"You're a liar, Chaotzu. I'm only going to repeat myself once more. Now listen carefully; I want the weapons you have." 

"No." 

Vejiita's face contorted into a look a pure rage, and he broke the stare at last. "How dare you defy me! Have you forgotten who I am? Have you forgotten how I got that title!?" 

Chaotzu closed his eyes. He hadn't forgotten. How could he? Though it had happened quite some time ago, the short, white-skinned man could remember everything clear as day. 

* 

_Chaotzu, the Emperor of Crete, was reduced to this? He paced back and forth, occasionally pushing his overlarge royal green beanie out of his eyes. Why? What did he do wrong? The Empire was under attack, and the Athenians had been forced to their last stand; the city of Troy. Sitting well-defended on the eastern shore of the Channel, Troy had been the perfect place to fight back._

_Or Chaotzu had thought, before Vejiita and his one man army had started draining the channel. Why had they not prepared? The two Saiya-jins were bound to come, armed and dangerous, especially after the death of their comrade Raditsu._

_The Empire had rested for so long on the protection of one man: Son Gokuh. Raditsu, Gokuh's brother only by blood, had arrived exactly one year ago, demanding his brother return with him to their homeland. Raditsu's arrival had come as a shock to everyone, but it was nothing compared to the vast information he provided while keeping his brother at gunpoint._

_According to the stranger, Gokuh wasn't from Crete at all, but from Bejiita, the land from which the mighty Saiya-jin hailed. It lay to the south of Crete, far enough that the two regions had never interacted. The Saiya-jin were a ruthless race, killing people without a second thought, and Gokuh's kindheartedness was a characteristic that set him apart._

__What about my parents? How come I am here and have no memory of you, them, or Bejiita? This is the only home I have ever known! Son was most possibly too inquisitive for Raditsu'_s taste. _

__Bardock, the two Saiya-jins_'_ father, had apparently gone insane. He had mortally wounded Gokuh's mother, who, in her last few moments, had managed to safely send the new baby down the Channel to better lands. Raditsu, of course, was a warrior by that time, and had now been searching for his younger brother for some time, in hopes of recruiting him. Gokuh had apparently been found by his "grandfather_"_ _Gohan, but the old soul had died when Son was only five years old. Found in the desolate mountains of Crete by a young woman named Buruma Briefs, Son Gokuh had grown up like a normal Crete-jin. _

__When Gokuh had not wanted to return to Bejiita with his brother, Raditsu had become violent and had kidnapped Son's son, named Gohan after Gokuh'_s grandfather. _

__Pikkoro Daimou, the offspring of a very powerful and particularly evil Demon, had teamed up with his long time enemy Son Gokuh to save Crete. They rode off late at night to avoid Gokuh'_s paranoid wife, Chi-Chi, following the stealthy Raditsu for days. _

__The battle, a quick-draw of .45'_s between the two brothers, had rendered Raditsu dead and Son Gokuh mortally wounded. The still cruel-hearted Pikkoro had kidnapped the unlucky Gohan once more, leaving the people of Athens to believe their strongest and most beloved hero was dead._

__The apparently heartless Pikkoro Daimou had quickly succumbed to the young Son Gohan, the boy quickly finding his way into the killer man'_s heart. He had returned the boy, dressing himself in a striped hat to cover his abnormal ears, antennae, and baldness. Claiming to be a simple farmer who had discovered him in the woods, he had been accepted into Crete with open arms._

_But still, Son Gokuh was missing. _

_Vejiita and his lackey, Nappa, had arrived not long after to claim revenge. Vejiita, the Prince of the Saiya-jins and the strongest member of the high class society, had decided to seek information on the disappearance of one of his best soldiers._

_Attacking the city of Athens mercilessly, hundreds of civilians were killed by the Saiya-jins and their superior weaponry. They had stormed in with horse-drawn cannons and numerous lines of machine guns, casually destroying houses and peasants wherever they went. Whoever was left fled across the Channel, taking all available boats with them. _

_Emperor Chaotzu was a superior leader, having all the confidence of his people, and being a generally honest politician and ruler. He did what was best for his people and his Empire, rather than bargaining for power. When the Saiya-jins attacked, he had ushered what was left of the civilians into some older warships and boated them across to the old fort of Troy, used in the Last Stand against the Red Ribbon Army. _

_Vejiita, always a man of resourcefulness, began a slow process of invasion. He and his partner, Nappa, a not entirely dexterous hulk, had begun using small scale hydrogen weapons to clear away massive tributaries. The Channel began to drain, allowing easy passage for the two Saiya-jins into Troy. _

_A simple night infiltration had Chaotzu imprisoned in Athens and Vejiita the new military dictator of Crete._

__* 

The Emperor opened his eyes. "Even if I did have more artillery, I wouldn't give it to you. I may have close friends in your army, but I will never help the Rikugun no Otoko. You deserve to suffer a long and painful death." 

Fury blazed in Vejiita's eyes. "Burn in hell," he spat, turning on one sharp, leather heel and stomping away. He would spare Chaotzu's life for now; the former Emperor was the only one who knew the whereabouts of the other weapons that were crucial to his army if they were expected to win. 

*** 

The distant Himalayas glowed brightly, the Sun sinking into the watery depths of the Channel. The sky glowed a deep ruby, sapphire and turquoise clouds floating carelessly in the amber light. The distant city walls of Athens hung in darkness, the phenomenon in question as an omen or just merely shadowed by the summer glow on overhanging trees. 

The volleys from the Rikugun no Otoko's battlement, dubbed the "Hill of Perdition," had ceased for the night. The men kept enough pride that, while their controlling Taishoo was away, they gave the women a break, as well as themselves. The Mamoru Kame knew the ceasefire was only in effect until the general returned, so two guards stood on the outer walls and watched the opposing army's every movement on the Hill. 

Deep in the city of Troy, houses and stables were drowned in darkness. Most were asleep, except a small group of women inside the forges. They pumped the bellows, making enough molten iron to last them another week. In a far corner of the boiling room, a blue-haired woman was leaning over a torn up, blackened notebook. Her pen worked frivolously, perfecting the blueprints to a new invention. Her ideas were crucial to the group, giving the smaller, less well-armed army the upper hand. This particular woman held the key to all Crete's nuclear weapons, making it impossible for the men to just nuke them. 

Suddenly, the ragged, overworked woman collapsed in sobs, drawing the attention of the other bellow-pumping women. They whispered amongst each other, until a taller, raven-haired housewife was chosen. She climbed gratefully off the large wooden fan, making her way across the room to the dark corner. Getting on her knees, she cleared a lock of blue hair from her comrade's face. 

"Buruma..." The older woman looked up, sniffling desperately while retrieving her pen. Her ink dip had been knocked over, black stains now covering her already torn red dress. 

"Come on, let's get you to bed," the taller, black-haired woman said comfortingly, helping Buruma to her feet. 

"Arigatou, Chi-Chi," she mumbled unintentionally, clearing her throat of stifled sobs. Chi-Chi nodded, patting her friend on the back. 

"We all miss them," she assured, the two making their way out of the steaming forge and onto the freezing thoroughfare of Troy. The city was asleep, the sounds of pacing watchwomen easily audible from the guard towers. 

After curling up on a matted, old blanket on the floor, Buruma glanced up at the sullen Chi-Chi. 

"Do.. Do you think we'll ever see them again? Me.. Yamucha and I... We were to be wedded today.." she stuttered between newfound sobs, clutching the sticky gray blanket to her chest. Chi-Chi nodded in understanding, kneeling beside the crying Buruma. 

"I miss Gokuh and Gohan too. Just get some sleep. This will all be over soon." The sniffling woman nodded furiously, closing her eyes and curling up to the useless gray rag. Chi-Chi sighed, rolling down the bearskin door as she left. 

**_A Little Glossary of Japanese Translations:_**

**__Kuso!** _- Damnit! Shit!_

__**Taishoo** _- General_

__**Gunjin** - _Soldier_

__**Arigatou** - _Thank you_ __**Mamoru** - _Defend_ __**Kame** - _Turtle (Sea Turtle)_ __**Rikugun** - _Army_

__**Otoko** - _Man_

__Feel free to e-mail us at kerurshi@mindless.com (fitting, isn't it?) or leave a review. That review button is just _itching_ to be pressed... 


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